


Their Bed

by Queen_Martia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Survivor Guilt, allusions to mass murder, allusions to torture, anti reylo, bonding over hot chocolate, not TLJ compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25703182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Martia/pseuds/Queen_Martia
Summary: Nightmares aren't uncommon in the Resistance, but Rey is having a trickier time than usual dealing with both hers and those of the two people she loves.(Or, a snapshot of what could have been)
Relationships: Finn/Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey, Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Their Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I was actually a big fan of The Force Awakens, but dropped off after watching The Last Jedi, and never got around to watching the Rise of Skywalker after hearing the plot summary. Why they would abandon the actual storyline in an attempt to "redeem" a fascist wannabe is beyond me, and the fact that they made Rey kiss him after he severely violated her mind and tried to kill her first real friend is disgusting. So, this is pure wish-fulfillment for me.

She's the only one of them to wake up screaming. When her nightmares grow too loud, the voices too piercing, the pain too bright, her terror rips its way out of her throat as she bolts up, sweat dripping down her back. Those are the nights when it's not enough, when every touch feels too much like spectral fingers around her neck, when the sound of the air reminds her of harsh breath on her cheek, when not even Finn's soft words and Poe's gentle eyes are enough to draw her back to reality, away from that cold black room. Those are the nights when she has to leave their room, to train until the pain of sore muscles drives away the memories. When she works until her callouses tear, until her hands are wet with sweat and blood, then she feels safe again.

BB-8 is her greatest comfort, when the fear won’t leave her bones. The little droid accompanies her where her lovers can’t, gives reassurance and comfort, a silent observer as she pushes herself harder. They don’t try to dissuade her from the weights, the laps around the gym, the katas she goes through again and again and again until her muscles move into them without thought. BB-8 is a welcome presence, only interrupting to correct her stance or to intervene when she’ll injure herself. They’re a good friend, and each time she tells them this; and each time, they respond with warmth.

It's not as common as it was before. Most nights, it’s enough to settle into their bed together, with laughter shared between lips, her fingers entangled with Finn’s, Poe’s arm slung over her hip. Most nights she feels secure at the edge of their bed, knowing that she’s strong enough to take on anything that would threaten them. Some nights, when fear begins to prickle down her spine, Poe leads her to the canteen, and the two of them sit in silence with cups of hot chocolate. Finn doesn’t know about what they went through, same as Rey will never understand what those monsters did to the man she loves. She’d rather have Ren invade her mind again, if it meant that she could spare Finn another wound on his shoulders.

She remembers when they’d stumbled into their relationship for the first time- with her and Poe agreeing to date Finn, though not each other at the time. That first night when she screamed, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from having a meltdown, sobbing into Finn’s arms like a child as he held onto her. Those early nights were the hardest, because it wasn’t just having her mind invaded- some nights it was seeing Finn’s charred body in the snow, or Finn being mangled by rathtars, or both of them falling into the crumbling ruins of the Starkiller base. It was even worse when the other two had their nightmares, because she knew nothing about what was wrong with them- all she could do was hold on, wishing desperately to take away their pain.

Eventually, she and Poe bonded over the shared trauma of the torture they’d gone through, and as they grew closer, they became more familiar- first as friends, then as partners, and then lovers. It wasn’t the same feeling she had for Finn, but it was just as warm, just as comforting. The first time she kissed him was after he’d come back from a tense mission, and it felt like something was fitting into place, like the final missing piece had come home. When she’d told Finn about it afterwards, he had beamed at her, like he had hoped this would happen but hadn’t expected it to.

It begins to get better after that, but it doesn’t go away. Just when she starts to hope, to believe that she’s moved on from it all, the terrors come back with a vengeance, and not just for her.

When Finn has nightmares, he doesn’t scream or thrash like Rey. He locks up, tears streaming from closed eyes, stiff as ice. Those nights flare up with his pain, with the wound carved into his back, the red glow all too bright against the smell of burning blood. Those nights are when he tries to bury it all, to hide it, to keep his fear below the surface so as not to worry them. It doesn’t work- it never does- and those nights no one gets any sleep, as hushed discussions over pillows slowly unravel the panic, grounding him in a way that reassurances won’t.

His nightmares aren’t always about that snowy night, but sometimes about the battlefield. A streak of blood over his visor, reminding him of the comrade he couldn’t save. The screams of the children, his finger unable to pull the trigger. Some nights he dreams of being executed for disloyalty, whether by blaster or beheading or force forbid that lightsaber.

Once, he tells them about his former squad- Zeroes, and Nines, and Slip, the one he couldn’t save. Poe cries for him that night, that he was the one to kill Finn’s friend- but Finn’s anger is with the First Order. Poe was trying to defend innocent people- how could Finn hate him for that? It was the First Order that had led the attack on the village, the First Order who had sent out his squad mates, the First Order who thinks nothing of the countless lives ruined by their imperialistic search for supremacy. Still, it doesn’t stop Poe from blaming himself for taking Finn’s friend from him, even when Finn wipes the tears from his eyes.

Not all the stories he tells them are horrific- there are things that almost resemble a real childhood hidden away. Flashes of children being children, of reading comics snuck in by a fellow cadet, of rescuing animals when he should have exterminated them. It’s moments like those that make everything else so much worse- those small glimmers of life that the First Order tried to exterminate, the brief glimpses of the Finn they love being brutally suppressed. How, she wonders, could they see someone as bright and beautiful as Finn and view him as anything less than a force-damned miracle? How could they see his compassion as a flaw, something to be snuffed out?

She holds him as gentle as she can those nights, while Poe presses gentle kisses down his scarred spine, up his shoulder and neck. Those are the nights when she truly hates the First Order- she knows that it’s not the best motivation, but it’s hard to grasp the sheer scope of _five planets_ of lives extinguished. This, though? Stealing and torturing and brutalizing children until they’re shadows of what they could have been with their families, and then murdering them without second thought whenever a failed jedi has another temper tantrum? _That_ is unfathomably cruel, unforgivable, especially when they did this to the first person she’s ever loved. _That_ is what she reminds herself of, when the fighting feels near-overwhelming, that defeating the First Order puts an end to this brutality.

Some nights it’s not the nightmares that keep him up, though. Some nights it’s guilt- guilt at what the First Order made him do, guilt at killing other stormtroopers, guilt in not rebelling sooner. The guilt claws its way into him on those nights, and no amount of logic can dissuade him from it. Those are the nights that Rey hates the most- to see someone so good and kind, so utterly wonderful, be so convinced of his own inhumanity. She wishes that he could know how much he means, to her and to the galaxy; he knows, logically, that his rebellion against the First Order has led entire squadrons to abandon their posts and join the Resistance, but that doesn’t assuage the shame curling in his belly- she knows that, the same way she knows that no amount of promises to stay and reassurances will ever truly stop the fear that one day they’ll leave and not come back.

Those nights when he can’t bear to think about anything, Poe and him go… somewhere. Rey doesn’t ask, but when they do return, hours later, Finn always seems calmer, smelling like cherries and sandalwood. She’s grateful for it, for the fact that Poe does what she can’t, that he completes their little family. When Finn slips back underneath the covers, she kisses each of his knuckles, both to comfort him and to reassure himself- he’s here, he’s okay, he’s alive.

The nights when Poe is plagued by nightmares scare her, because he doesn’t wake up- he cries in his sleep, thrashing and screaming in their bed as he fights unseen enemies. Trying to wake him up is difficult- the least harmful way they’ve found so far is with Rey keeping him from hurting himself or them with his thrashing while Finn reaches out with the force, gingerly, to coax him back to reality. Rey’s too strong, too much like the fingers that tore through his mind before, but Finn is gentle in a way that she hasn’t yet mastered.

Finn knows how their minds were invaded, their memories and thoughts torn apart and ripped to shreds by a petty coward that couldn’t handle when one of his victims fought back- but Rey’s spared him the gorier details. How sometimes the strangest things bring back the terror she felt- a brush of cold metal, the smell of mint, even something as simple as a voice that sounds too similar to _his_ is enough to send her into a panic. For Poe, there are other things that make him spiral, but it’s familiar in a painful way. Rey understands the terror, the shame that bubbles up at being afraid of someone that can’t hurt you anymore, and the nausea in your belly at the thought of it happening again.

They talk about it one night, when she’s dragged into his nightmare. Even though she knows this terror well, it’s not her dream, and she summons up a lightsaber- one moment Poe’s tormentor is tearing into his mind, the next his skull is split in two, and Rey is undoing his bindings. The dream quickly dissolves after that, with Poe waking up beside her.

“C’mon,” she tells him, helping them both out of bed. Finn mumbles something in his sleep, but Rey hushes him gently, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. The base is quiet save for the occasional night watch, who simply wave them on with a tired, understanding look.

She’s still not as good at cooking as Poe is, but she can still make a decent cup of hot chocolate. Poe likes his with blue milk, for some reason, though Rey prefers it with hot water, and she makes his with a roll of her eyes. “It changes the flavor,” she tells him for the hundredth time, trying to distract him from the bantha in the room.

“For the better,” he mumbles back, taking a small sip. They sit in silence for a few minutes, Poe trying to organize his emotions and Rey just drinking her cup. Poe takes another long drink, then places his mug down. “I thought I was over this.”

She nods, gripping her mug tighter. “Yeah. But just when it seems like you’re safe- “

“-It comes right back to haunt you.” Poe gives a mirthless laugh. “Force. Other people have gone through worse than this and come out fine, but one interrogation and I just…”

“Don’t,” she scolds. “I know what it was like- no one could have survived that for long, and the fact that you held out at all is a mark of bravery, not weakness.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” His thumb rubs over hers gently, a gaunt expression on his face. “All those faces- the children. One of them had a blaster shot right here.” He points to a spot right between his eyes, at the bridge of his nose. “Still screaming when the stormtrooper got her. Her mother- she was holding her body when he ordered the villagers executed.”

“I’ll kill him,” she promises, pressing her fingers to his cheek. “I don’t care what the general says- he can’t suffer enough for what he’s done to the galaxy. What’s he done to you.”

Poe sighs, too lost in memories to take in her words. “Sometimes I find myself thinking… if I hadn’t been at that village, what would have happened to them? Would they have burned the place down anyway? Or would that girl and her mother still be alive and safe?” He takes a deep breath. “I wonder sometimes, why I got to live and they didn’t. Whether it’s all random, or some cruel god decided that it was fine for a child to be shot down in front of her mother. I don’t know which is worse.”

“Either way, whether it’s fate or chance- I’m glad I’m here, with you and Finn and everyone else.” She finishes her cup of hot chocolate. “C’mon, finish yours up- we can take a shower.” That’s one thing she’s grown to love ever since leaving Jakku- water showers, not sonic ones. There’s something different about the heat and the steam that makes every ache in her muscles disappear, that quiets her mind when nothing else will.

The two of them wash up together, forgoing washing their hair and instead just washing off the sweat and terror from before. Rey relishes in the heat, practically purring at the running water. It’s enough to make Poe smile, so she’ll count it as a victory. As they slide back into bed after drying off, Finn curls his fingers into Poe’s nightshirt, mumbling. “Missed you two,” he tells them. “Why didn’t you wake me, I would’ve helped.”

“Sorry.” Rey slings an arm over his hip, fingers brushing against his stomach gently. “Didn’t want you to lose sleep if you didn’t have to.”

Finn gives a quiet laugh at that. “We lose sleep so often that I’m used to it.”

It’s true enough. Sometimes it isn’t even their dreams- the life of a resistance member is chaotic and unpredictable, and sometimes one or all of them end up pulling days-long shifts trying to finish a mission or running from the enemy or various other things that keep them awake. Bags under eyes are common in the resistance, and while Finn and Rey can counteract this somewhat with the Force, even they can hardly stand after forty hours of continued consciousness. Poe’s gotten in trouble with the general for taking missions while sleep-deprived, but he argues that it’s better he takes them than someone who isn’t trained properly.

Once, when it’s not nightmares or guilt or terror keeping them up, but general insomnia, she brings up the idea of children. She’s a bit young to be a mother, but even if she was older, she doesn’t think she’s ready yet, emotionally, to have another life responsible for her. She has her issues she needs to work through, the bad habits that need to be curbed, the trauma and grief that root themselves in her brain. Still, the longing is there, and so she asks, propped up on one arm, if either of them would ever want kids.

Finn shrugs, but she can see the faint hints of a smile on his lips, a tired joy in his eyes. “I mean, not now, no. But I think I’d like to have kids someday- when this whole war is over.”

Poe gives a soft snort. “Tell that to my father. He wants grandchildren yesterday.” Still, his eyes warm at the thought- he’s always been the best of kids, out of the three of them. He sits back, his fingers lingering on Rey’s. “I don’t want- _if_ we have kids, I want them to grow up in a peaceful galaxy. I never want to send my child off to war. No one does.”

“And if war came?” Rey asks, a curling in her gut at the thought. That she could fight so hard, sacrifice so much, and for conflict to come to the galaxy again- hasn’t the galaxy seen enough bloodshed and loss to stay quiet for a century or two? “If we had children, and they wanted to fight?”

Poe sighs. “How could I stop them, when I did the same thing? I’d worry, maybe I’d even join them, but I couldn’t stop them.” He thumbs his mother’s wedding ring, the tarnished metal a bundle of memories both happy and sad that radiate off Poe into the force.

And then Finn had kissed him, and Rey had pulled both of them into her arms, and they’d filled the air with laughter and light and love, leaving them sweaty and soft and content. She loves the gentle way they hold her; the sounds Finn makes when she bites down softly on his collarbone; the way that Poe can’t stop giggling until the two of them get him on his back, at which point his reverent gaze focuses on them alone. Even at their hottest, their basest, she can feel the adoration emanating from all of them. It’s when she’s with them that she feels most like herself.

That’s something she can’t be without them. Outside, she’s Rey the Hero, the New Jedi, the Savior of the Resistance. It feels hollow, fake- all she did was defeat Ren, and that was more of a fluke than anything else. So what if she’s a Hero? People are still dead.

She brings this up to the general at one point, who shares the same sentiment. “They don’t want a person; they want an image. Someone they can project their ideals onto. There’s a reason they still called me ‘princess’ years after Alderaan was destroyed- I had to be their rock.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Rey insists, pacing around in the empty mission room. She can feel Luke’s questioning probe in the back of her mind at her distress, but she brushes it aside. “Why not Finn? Without him, we all would have died.”

The general gives a soft laugh at that. “What makes you think he doesn’t feel the same way? He’s an idol to the defectors who come to us, someone who was able to not only leave the First Order but fight back. There have been others, sure, but none as memorable or as inspiring as him. Like it or not, his actions against them have had an impact.” Rey opens her mouth, but the general raises her hand. “Yes, you and I both know he just wanted to escape, but they don’t. His motivations don’t matter- his actions do.”

Rey sighs, burying her face in her hands. “I just- I don’t understand how they can look up to me. From where I’m standing, all I can see is one lucky mistake after another.”

“And your lucky mistakes have done more for us in the past year than we’ve been able to do before. They’re not interested in who you really are, but in what you can do. And it’s unfair. But right now, we’re all looking for a hero, and for a lot of people that’s you.” She places a gentle hand on Rey’s shoulder, and Rey wonders idly if this is what mothers are supposed to do. “You have people who care about you, and they won’t buy into this hero worship- they see you for who you are, Rey.”

“I know, it’s just…” she can’t think of what she wants to say, and the general seems to recognize this, pulling Rey into a gentle hug. She goes still for a moment before melting into it, and when she leaves the warmth stays with her for a while.

That night, after BB-8 is in their charging port, she curls up between Finn and Poe with her head on Finn’s chest. She listens to his heartbeat for a few minutes, with Finn looking back at her bemusedly. “Having fun?”

“Mm.” She breathes deep, enjoying the smell of their room and the heat of their bodies. “It’s soothing. Your heartbeat.”

Poe gives a soft laugh, carding his fingers through her hair. “I’m sure it is, but your neck can’t feel comfortable like that.” It doesn’t, and with a groan she pulls her head up, rubbing her neck and spine. She pulls Poe in for a kiss, wrinkling her nose at the taste of caf in his mouth- she doesn’t understand how he can stomach the stuff, but even still she powers through it.

When she pulls away, she catches Finn looking at them with a pleased expression. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Absolutely.” He shifts and pulls Poe into his arms, kissing not with fervor but with slow, gentle movements. He’s the romantic among them, and Rey loves him for it. As soon as he breaks apart from Poe she leans in and closes her mouth over his. A warmth blossoms in her, and when she comes up for breath, she can’t help the grin on her face.

“Force, I love you,” she blurts out, and Finn stills in her arms. She hears Poe take a sharp breath, and she turns, pulling him into the embrace as well. “That goes for you too, mister.”

Finn bites his lip. “Do you mean it?” he asks, and Rey detects a twinge of both hope and fear from him. Like he can’t believe her words, as if she’s going to turn around and mock him for believing her for one moment.

The thought makes her ache, and she presses her face into his shoulder. “I mean it. You two- you’re my home.” A flicker of doubt goes over Finn’s face, and she takes his face in her hands. “You don’t have to say it back, but it’s true.”

“No!” Finn sits up on his arms, holding her hand gently. “I- I love you. Both of you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” He says it with the hint of a laugh, like he can’t believe himself, but he presses into their arms with a sigh.

Poe bites his lip, fiddling with his mother’s wedding ring. “I- not yet. I care about you both, dearly, but- I don’t know if it’s love yet.”

Rey presses a kiss to his temple. “That’s alright. But I wanted you to know.” She can feel the warmth radiating from him, both physical and emotional- for now, that’s enough. They curl up in bed together, breath mingling in the quiet night air, and Rey knows that tonight, there won’t be any nightmares.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember, comments will make me write more


End file.
